


i never knew love like i've known it with you

by sonlali



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali
Summary: Based on the prompt “We’re all a little stronger than we think we are.”Ray comforts Patrick after "The Barbecue."
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Ray Butani, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 30
Kudos: 127





	i never knew love like i've known it with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nervouscupcakeinspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace/gifts).



> [cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace): you used all of my prompts in a single fic, and i have apparently decided to write a new fic using one of your prompts every day. i'm as surprised by this turn of events as you are. ٩(^‿^)۶ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ٩( ᐛ )و i hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> title is from Whitney Houston's "I Have Nothing"

_I think I need some time with it._ David’s words are still ringing in Patrick’s ears as he opens the door to Ray’s house and wanders aimlessly to the kitchen. He didn’t manage to eat anything before… well. But now he can’t imagine ever being hungry again. 

The memory of the hurt etched across David’s beautiful features is burned onto his retinas. He’s not sure that he’ll ever be able to remove that image from his brain. _This has really messed things up for me._ Patrick feels sick. 

Everything after that moment in David’s room is a complete blur. He vaguely remembers walking back to the picnic table, the eyes of the Rose family and Stevie burning his skin. He knows that he took a plate of food to David’s room and David took it without looking at him. He knows that he then went to Rachel’s room to talk to her. He doesn’t remember much of that either. The pain in her eyes is also seared into his mind, but the conversation is just a jumble of tears and questions and guilt. He doesn’t remember driving to Ray’s at all. He wonders vaguely if he violated any traffic laws. 

He’s been standing in Ray’s kitchen and staring blankly for minutes? Hours? Days? Patrick really has no idea. He decides to make himself a cup of tea just to have something to do with his hands. Patrick opens a cabinet door to retrieve his mug and stops with his hand hovering mid-air. Where did _that_ come from? Did Ray get a new mug? 

Patrick reaches into the cabinet to grab the handle of the new mug. It’s blue and has the Toronto Blue Jays logo on the side, and Patrick’s breath catches. There’s a note stuck to the opposite side of the mug, and he instantly recognizes David’s neat penmanship. _Now you can get rid of that ugly highlighter monstrosity._ Underneath he’s doodled a mug, a baseball, and a heart, and Patrick feels as if his chest is cracking open. His knees buckle and he steadies himself with a hand on the countertop. 

Whenever David sleeps over, he loudly complains about Patrick’s hideous mug as Patrick drinks his morning tea. It’s a lurid shade of neon green, and Patrick can’t even remember where he got it from. David insists that it looks like a highlighter and would be better suited among office supplies than any beverages. He’s had it for years, and it is one of the few things Patrick took with him when he moved to Schitt’s Creek. He doesn’t have any emotional attachment to it, other than the joy it gives him each time David starts in on an impassioned rant about which qualities are and are not acceptable to have in a mug. 

Patrick doesn’t even realize he’s crying until a tear splashes onto the note, blurring the little heart. He swipes at the note frantically but only succeeds in smearing the heart further, which feels like a sick metaphor for his relationship with David. He tilts his head back and blinks rapidly in an attempt to clear the tears, but instead he catches sight of the highlighter green mug in the open cabinet. He had gotten his tea at the café this morning, so he didn’t use the mug. Now, he notices that there is a note stuck to this mug too. It simply has a large red “X” stretching across the entirety of the note. 

It’s just enough to push him over the edge. Patrick’s knees give out and he drops to the floor in a heap, the neon green mug shattering beside him. He cradles the Blue Jays mug to his chest as sobs wrack through his body violently. It is so painfully _David_ to buy a thoughtful gift to surprise Patrick, while simultaneously ensuring that Patrick gets rid of something he finds deeply offensive to his sensibilities. Where did David even buy this mug? Patrick can imagine him wandering the aisles of a gas station in Elmdale, loading his arms with snacks and scowling at all the kitschy keychains and baseball caps. Or maybe he ordered it online, carefully browsing for something he thought Patrick would like, googling to make sure the Blue Jays were in fact a baseball team. Patrick cries harder at the thought, his entire body shaking. _My truth is that I am damaged goods._ David’s words ring in his ears. 

Another thought abruptly enters his mind. When had David even put this mug in the kitchen cabinet? When was the last time David spent the night? He wasn’t here last night, so the mug has been there for over a day, at least. “Oh, god,” Patrick mutters under his breath. David had probably been waiting for Patrick to comment on the mug. He probably thought Patrick didn’t like it. Would he even get the chance to tell David how much he appreciates it? Would he have the opportunity to drink his tea from this mug while David dozes beside him in his bed? 

Ray’s voice suddenly fills the kitchen with a cheerful rendition of Whitney Houston’s “I Have Nothing.” Patrick hadn’t even heard him come home. 

_I don't wanna have to go, where you don't follow,_ Ray sings merrily as he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks when he spots Patrick curled in on himself on the floor, his eyes widening, but still smiling bright as ever. “Patrick, have you hurt yourself?” He steps closer to Patrick, carefully avoiding the broken shards of the green mug. 

Patrick’s not sure what to say or if he is even capable of calming his ragged breathing enough to speak coherently, so he just pulls his knees to his chest and buries his face in them. 

“Did you cut yourself?” Ray asks, and Patrick shakes his head. “Are you upset about your mug? The one in your hand seems perfectly fine, but I’m sure we can replace your green one. I have a friend in Elm Valley who makes ceramics! I’m sure she’d be happy to make you a new mug just like this one!”

“I d-don’t c-care about the m-mug,” Patrick croaks, his voice wavering and thick with tears. 

“Well,” Ray claps his hands enthusiastically. “In that case, I’m just going to clean this up before you cut yourself!” And just like that, Ray sets about sweeping up the mug quickly and efficiently, humming all the while. Once he is finished, Ray crouches beside Patrick and reaches for the Blue Jays mug that Patrick is still clutching to his chest. “How about I make you some tea? A warm beverage always helps, my mother always says.”

“No!” Patrick shouts, tightening his grip on the mug until his knuckles whiten. 

Ray appears completely unfazed by his outburst. “Would you prefer I use another mug then, or no tea at all?”

Patrick just blinks. He’s never met anyone quite like Ray. 

“Another mug then! I’ll make you some chamomile with honey. It will help you rest and soothe your throat, which I imagine is a bit sore from crying so much.” Ray keeps up a steady stream of chatter as he flits around the kitchen making tea. “David helped me select some delightful face masks at your store recently! We can apply those later to help with your puffy eyes.” 

Patrick starts sobbing anew at the mention of David’s name. Distantly, he thinks that he should be embarrassed for the way he is acting, but he doesn’t think he would be able to control himself even if he tried.

“Oh, well, I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about face masks, Patrick.” Ray remarks idly. He exits the room, returning with a box of tissues. “We can do something else instead. What would you like? Have you eaten? Would you like to watch a movie?”

“Da-David,” Patrick finally manages to hiccup in response. 

“Would you like me to call David?” Ray suggests.

Patrick shakes his head wildly. “David… We… I don’t know wha-what I’m going to do wi-without him!” He speaks brokenly between heaving gasps. 

“Oh!” Ray lets out a little gasp of surprise when he understands. “Ohh, Patrick.”

“I messed up bad, and I hurt him, and he needs some time, and I lo-love him so much, and I never meant to hurt him!” It all spills out of Patrick’s mouth in one long stream of consciousness.

Ray sits down on the floor beside Patrick and passes him the mug of chamomile tea. Patrick juggles the two mugs clumsily until Ray manages to gently tug the Blue Jays mug from his grasp, setting it carefully on the floor between them. Patrick sips at his tea and finds that it really does help to calm his breathing and relax some of the tension from his muscles. Ray nods eagerly beside him, encouraging Patrick to continue drinking. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ray asks after several minutes, but Patrick shakes his head vehemently. Ray doesn’t appear at all put out. He just smiles broadly and claps his hands together again as he gets to his feet. “Okay! I’ll get some ice cream, you change into your pajamas, and we can meet in the living room to watch that documentary on fonts!”

He doesn’t leave much room for debate, so Patrick rises to his feet unsteadily and carries his empty mug to the sink. Ray takes it from him and starts to wash it himself, shooing Patrick out of the room. Patrick takes his Blue Jays mug with him upstairs and places it tenderly on his nightstand. He changes out of his clothes and into pajamas almost robotically and heads back downstairs to the living room. 

When Patrick enters the living room, he finds Ray already sitting on the couch with two large bowls of ice cream on the coffee table. He smiles at Patrick and pats the seat next to him on the couch with a fervent “Patrick! Come sit!” Patrick dutifully takes a seat on the couch, and Ray promptly drapes his coziest blanket over Patrick’s lap. He already has the documentary cued up on the television and is about to press play when Patrick finally speaks. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if this break is forever,” Patrick whispers, staring down at his bowl of ice cream without really seeing it. “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to handle the break. What am I supposed to do without David? How do I run the store without him? How do I live with myself knowing that I’ve hurt him like this? I know I need to give him space and time, but I just want to do something to make it better right now!”

When Patrick glances tentatively in Ray’s direction, he finds that Ray is already looking at him, a thoughtful expression replacing his usual wide smile. 

“I think you’ll find that we’re all a little stronger than we think we are, Patrick.” Ray speaks slowly and carefully. “You can suffer tremendous hurt and still come out okay on the other side. It takes time for some wounds to heal, so you need to give David that time to heal and give yourself that same opportunity to mend. After taking that time, if you and David reconcile, each of you individually and your relationship as a whole will be all the stronger for it. But even if it doesn’t work out, you need to trust that you will be okay. Right now you are both hurting, but tomorrow is another day! You never know what it will bring.”

Ray smiles kindly and returns his attention to his bowl of ice cream. “I’m eager to see which fonts this documentary covers! I’ve been considering redesigning my business cards now that my gardening business is really taking off, and I can’t decide which font would work best.”

“Thank you, Ray,” Patrick says. “You’re a really good friend.”

“Your ice cream is melting, Patrick.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr [@landofsonlali](https://landofsonlali.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
